The tip of the razor meets the side of the bullet.
An almost illegible S is scrawled into the casing.

"Your name," his scratchy, yet somewhat high pitched voice growls, "is Sonic."

The rest of the letters in the name are etched in, following up the first.

"You're the fastest," he says, "so you need to go first. You'll never see it coming."

Trembling gloved fingers slide the ammunition into the open revolver.

He picks up another bullet from the box on his desk.

"Your name," he starts, readying the blade at the side of the tiny object of metal and lead, "is Bunnie, because you never loved me, and you never will."

Licking his lips, he breathes in deeply through his nose and holds it.
The object is labeled and loaded into the gun.

Previous actions repeat.

"Your name is Sally, because you'll never be the leader I should have been."

Three bullets loaded, and the revolver is closed and locked.

Antoine holsters the weapon and leans back in his chair.
He retrieves a cigarette and a matchbook from the desk beside him. Stuffs the cigarette into the corner of his mouth, folding the matchbook over and tearing out the last remaining match. He strikes it against the back of the book and lights up, inhaling the bittersweet slow death.

He plucks two more bullets from the box. He names them anonymous, and sits back to wait for the show to finally begin.